


A Man's Fantasy

by bexara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami is forced to follow Aomine’s instructions when he loses a bet during one of their one-on-one matches. He knows his rival/lover is a giant pervert, but he never expected this.</p><p>This was an illustrated fic - all of the pics can be found <a href="http://bexara.tumblr.com/post/34191007281">here</a></p><p>And more doodles <a href="http://bayoukun.tumblr.com/post/30393455017/nudeapronbakagami">here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man's Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually illustrated but some of the pics are explicit so won't post here. To get the full effect, you can check out my LiverJournal (link below).

Link to illustrated fic:

[A Man’s Fantasy on LiveJournal](http://bexara.livejournal.com/41512.html)

* * *

 

Making a bet with Aomine was like dancing with the devil, his ass always got burned in the end. Though his backside was actually feeling a bit breezy at the moment, even in the warm, toasty confines of his kitchen.

 _Chop! Chop! Chop!_  "You're staring again." Kagami growled as he took out his frustrations, his anger, his head-to-toe mortification on the poor vegetables strewn out on the counter. The crisp, pungent scent of onion and garlic filled the air, combining with the sweet fragrance of the olive oil slowly heating in the pot on the stove behind him.

"I'm not staring, I'm just enjoying the view," Aomine replied, his voice thick with laughter, and something else, something darker, something erotic.

That voice was rich as chocolate and smooth as cream, and it never failed to stir those parts of Kagami that were low and deep and hot. Stir him even when he was pissed off or worlds past embarrassment, both of which he felt in healthy doses now. Or, maybe his stomach was just rumbling from hunger thanks to all the food smells. Yeah, that was probably it.

Spinning around, he faced his rival, his lover, his very large  _pain-in-the ass_ , and momentarily forgot what he wanted to say. Tall, brutally masculine and dark as sin, Aomine lounged with all the lazy grace of a giant, languorous cat on a nearby stool, chin propped on his hand and long legs stretched out in front of him. A faint smile curved his firm, sensual lips, and his deep, midnight blue eyes roved hungrily over Kagami's body. It was only when those twilight orbs dipped lower and held steady, scorching a blazing trail down to his groin, that Kagami remembered his current, shameful predicament.

Grabbing the bit of nothing that covered  _nothing_  hanging precariously high around his crotch area with one hand, Kagami stabbed the knife in his other dangerously toward Aomine's direction.

"That  _is_  staring, you bastard!" Color didn’t just mount his cheeks, he wore a full-body blush that was clearly visible through what little he was, or rather  _wasn’t_ , wearing.

"Oi, oi," Aomine lifted his eyebrows, "it isn't nice to point a knife at someone, Kagami."

"It isn't  _nice_  to make someone cook dinner for you in the nude, either, you asshole!"

An expression so innocent, so angelic, so pure you'd swear butter wouldn't even melt in his mouth if you looked at him just then ( _and didn't_ that  _just look completely out of place)_  spread across Aomine's face.

"I don't know what you are talking about. You're not naked at all. Aren't you wearing the present I gave you?"

Kagami threw his arms up into the air and screeched, " _Present?_! This isn't a present, it's an instrument of abject humiliation! I might as well be naked, _Ahomine_! Only this is a thousand times worse!"

In a flash, Aomine's countenance transformed from virtuous to carnal. His hot, dark gaze once more zeroed in on Kagami's pelvis and his pink tongue - a tongue Kagami had tasted, dueled,  _sucked_  over and over in the months since they had started their relationship - flicked out, gliding along his bottom lip in a hungry, erotic movement. Snapping his own crimson eyes downward to see what Aomine was looking at, the flush covering his body suddenly deepened to a vibrant, scarlet hue that clashed horribly with his own red hair. He knew it clashed because he now had a perfect view of said hair, namely the short and curlies lying in a rather neat thatch between his thighs. Not just the hair, but his cock and balls were plainly visible as well.   
  
All the air in his lungs rushed out of his mouth in a choking, breathless squeak. He quickly dropped his arms like they had iron weights attached to them, causing the crimpled, pink hem of Aomine's "present" to fall back in place, covering his junk once more - barely.

"Aw, you could have stayed like that a little longer," the complaint was uttered in tones gone smoky with desire. Kagami shuddered. He met Aomine's eyes briefly, but that smoldering gaze burned right through him, and he broke the contact.

Turning back to the counter on knees that might have trembled just a teensy bit (not that he would admit it to himself or that arrogant, twisted bastard), he resumed preparing the vegetables.

"Dammit, first you steal my shirt, my shorts,  _and_  my freaking underwear," he raged at the wall in front of him. It was much safer than facing the evil, sneaky,  _sexy_  demon behind him. "And then," he continued muttering, scooping the veggies into a bowl and carrying them over to the stove, dumping them into the pot there to simmer, "you force me to wear this pink monstrosity  _and_  cook you dinner. I should just kick your ass right now."

The stool creaked as Aomine shifted and he sounded both amused and slightly indignant when he spoke. "Oi, I didn’t  _steal_  anything. You lost the bet, a bet that was  _your_  idea by the way.”

Pivoting once more, he stared incredulously at Aomine.  _“This_ ,” he waved an agitated hand down his body, “wasn’t my idea at all, you big pervert."

Aomine was straddling the stool now, his arms hanging loosely between his knees. The position stretched the denim of his jeans over the lean, solid muscles of his thighs and pulled it tight over his fly. Kagami deliberately avoided looking  _there_.  “And, what were you going to do if you won then ( _like that would happen_ ), make me clean your apartment or something?”

“Bastard, I heard that,” Kagami ground his teeth at the subtle insult. "I could have won. I've beaten you before."

"Uh huh, and when was the last time?"

 _Geh!_  Kagami's eyebrow twitched. He didn't want to answer that question. While he  _had_  beaten Aomine in their one-on-ones since that fateful Winter Cup match, his victories had few and far between. Very few. As in four out of fifteen. It galled him, ate at his pride, and fired him up to work even harder. Of course, he wasn't going to tell any of these things to Aomine.

"Kagami, when did you last beat me?" Aomine repeated, a knowing glint in his eye. Shit, even if Kagami didn’t say anything, that rude asshole seemed to know everything anyway.

He looked at the ceiling. He looked at the wall. He looked at the window, at the veggies quietly cooking on the stove, the dishes drying on the counter. Kagami looked everywhere  _but_ at Aomine.

So, Aomine decided not to play fair. He did the one thing Kagami was powerless against. The one thing that always got him the last fry from Kagami's plate, or a kiss in public when no one was looking, or Kagami sitting on him and riding him hard and fast and screaming out  _"ohgodohgodohgod Aomine!"_ , even when the red-head found the position so terribly embarrassing he could die from it.  

" _Taiga_."

The hairs at the nape of his neck prickled, his toes curled, warmth bloomed in his chest and spiraled down to ignite a slow, fiery heat deep inside him. Kagami shivered, even as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Two months, fourteen days, five hours, and twenty-three minutes," he mumbled, lower lip jutting out just a tiny bit, the only sign he might be sulking.

Eyes widening, Aomine gave a small chuckle. "Damn, I didn't expect you to know it down to the minute. That's impressive. Maybe if you put your brain to use like that on the court, you might be able beat me again."

Kagami took a warning step forward, but when he did, the ruffles around his groin fluttered out again, threatening to expose his dangly parts to the bright, kitchen light once more. Panicking, he slapped his hand over the material to hold it down and glared at Aomine.

"Why couldn't you have just asked me to make you dinner?" He snarled, but there might have been a hint of whining in his voice as well.

Tossing a hand nonchalantly in the air, Aomine grinned wickedly. "You do that all the time anyway. That's not much of a reward for winning a bet, is it?"

As if Aomine's smirking words flipped some kind of switch in him, Kagami saw red and rushed forward, ignoring how his rapid movements stirred a draft around his naked ass and allowed his dick to flash the room with every step he took. Curling his fist in the front of Aomine's black and white shirt, he looked into those dark blue eyes and exploded.

"I'm wearing a pink,  _pink!_ apron with yellow, pink, and blue cupcakes all over it, a strip of ruffles,  _ruffles!_   around the bottom, and a big yellow bow tied around the back and hanging over my ass. My  _nude_  ass. What the hell is wrong with you, Aomine?!"

Yes, Kagami was in his kitchen, completely naked as the day he was born, except for the tiny, girly,  _flirty_  apron that barely stretched around his front and wouldn't have covered much anyway even if he _had_ been wearing clothes. He was naked apron cooking. His life as he knew it was over.

When he had first seen the flimsy, bright pink garment hanging from Aomine's huge, masculine hands, he thought the other man was joking. With its ruffled, rounded bottom and dotted with cute, cheery cupcakes, the dainty garment was clearly intended for some sweet, little, _feminine_  thing. Not for a man, and certainly not a man who stood 190cm, weighed 82kg, and had a body thick with muscles.

Aomine shrugged innocently, ignoring the hand gripping his shirt. "Hey, naked apron is one of man's biggest fantasies. Everyone knows that."

"Not when the person wearing it is also a  _man_ , moron!" He was shrieking now.

"What? It's cute." Aomine fingered the ruffle tickling the high,  _very_  high, upper edge of Kagami's thigh. The back of his knuckle brushed across the bare skin there. Goosebumps broke out all over Kagami's body, and he felt his dick twitch, but he forcibly pushed the burgeoning arousal aside. He was mad at Aomine, dammit! He wasn't going to give the dark-haired, dark-eyed devil the satisfaction of knowing what just that slightest touch did to him.

"How is it cute, dumbass? You ... you're just ...  _glaargh!_ " He was so aggravated, he could only emit a bizarre, strangled sound. Letting go of the shirt in his hand, he leaned in until their noses almost touched and poked Aomine hard in the chest with his finger. "I'm tall. I'm big. I have body hair and muscles and a  _cock_! There is no freaking way this pink disaster is  _cute_  on me."

"That's where you are wrong," Aomine murmured, bridging distance between them until their lips were touching, teasing, tasting each other. "It's adorable." He kissed the corner of Kagami's mouth. " _You're_  adorable."

The blush he had been sporting earlier had faded some. At Aomine's husky declaration, it returned in full force. He opened his mouth to  _deny it? argue? screech some more?_  and Aomine slipped the tip of his tongue between Kagami's parted lips. Sliding his knuckles along Kagami's jaw, he plowed his other hand into thick, red hair and dove in for a soul-stealing, body shattering kiss.

Kissing Aomine was ...it was like riding lightning. Hot, electric, wild,  _dangerous_. Demanding, drugging, and dominating, he didn't try to coax or cajole a reaction. With his teeth and lips and tongue, he pushed his way in, attacked with erotic force, and pulled a response from his partner. Kagami was no weak-willed, retiring little pushover. With his fist still knotting in Aomine's shirt, he twined their tongues together, kissing his lover deep and hard and rough, so hard and rough a trickle of saliva, his or Aomine's or both (he didn't know, didn't really care), dripped down his chin.

Kagami gave as good as he got, but sometimes,  _sometimes_  when Aomine was sucking and licking his mouth with such fierce, aggressive greed, he wanted to just hold on, curl his fingers into those broad, muscular shoulders, and drown in the pleasure.

He probably would have done that now if the timer he had set for the meat hadn't gone off. The loud, discordant beep jolted him back to reality. Ripping himself out of Aomine's embrace, he took a stumbling step back. Breathing hard, he looked at his lover's slumberous blue eyes, wet, swollen lips, the obvious bulge behind the zipper of his jeans, and he swallowed a groan. Idiot! Dumbass! _Ahomine_!! Starting that crap in the kitchen of all places!

Dragging his eyes (and his protesting body) away, Kagami went to the timer and turned it off. He still couldn't get used to it, walking around the kitchen almost completely nude. In fact, it seemed to him that wearing the miniscule piece of clothing made him feel much more naked than if he was wearing nothing at all.

It certainly wasn't comfortable, either. Because he was so broad, it barely reached around him, and the straps circling his neck bit into the tender flesh there. He'd had to tie them very tight to keep them in place. Also, because it _was_ so snug, the material chafed his nipples with every movement he made. It was doubly worse now after Aomine's kiss. The small discs were hard and pointed, stabbing into the apron. He lifted the meat out from the oven to the cutting board, and the cloth rubbed over the stiff peaks, the sensual sensation causing him to jerk and bang his knee on the cabinet beneath the counter in the process.

" _Shit_!" he swore and hopped on one leg, then stopped as things that shouldn't be flapping around started  _flapping_ around because there was nothing to hold them in place.

"You alright?" Aomine asked curiously, but there was barely suppressed mirth in his voice, a voice that was deeper and huskier than before.

"No, I'm not alright, idiot!" Kagami barked as he began cubing the meat. "I'm nearly naked in my kitchen, _cooking_. That can't be very hygienic at all! I'm wearing a pink nightmare that would make me the laughingstock of my entire team if they ever saw it. My ass is cold, and this damn bow keeps tickling it every time I move. Oh, and yeah, my lover is the sadist responsible for the whole thing. I'm damn well  _not alright!_ "

There was a long, heavy pause. "I like that," Aomine said quietly when he finally spoke again.

Kagami looked over his shoulder in disbelief. "You like being a sadist?"

Lips quirking, Aomine shook his head, locking his eyes on Kagami's. "Well, that, too. But, no. I like hearing you call me your _lover_."

 _Poof!_   He exploded into color again. Even the tips of his toes were probably red at that clear, bald statement.

"Du-dumbass!" he sputtered, whipping his head back around. His heart thumped hard in his chest. He never knew if Aomine was really that open about their relationship, or if he just liked saying those kinds of things to see Kagami flustered.

Shaking his head to clear it, he pushed all those distracting thoughts away and tried to focus on the task at hand. It was hard, definitely, especially with that damn bow hitting his butt every time he moved, reminding him of his embarrassing state. However, he soon miraculously found himself lost in the familiar rhythms of the kitchen. He forgot all about trying to cover his groin, forgot that every movement of his body stirred the apron, showing everything. His mind and his hands were otherwise engaged. The room's other occupant did _not_ , however, forget it for a second.

Being the clueless, rather  _innocent_  idiot he was, Kagami wasn't aware every  casual action he performed afforded a teasing, tempting peep show to Aomine's heated, hungry blue eyes. The apron continually rose and fell, revealing and concealing his balls, his dark red curls, his long, thick shaft. The dark gaze watching him became the sharp, tracking stare of a predator, and he didn't notice it. He was even humming under his breath as he added spices to the bubbling concoction before him.

He reached for the olive oil, intending to add a few drops, but Aomine's voice stopped him. It was harsh, raspy, like someone had poured honey over sandpaper, not his normal, smooth, rich tones at all.

"Are you doing it on purpose?"

Kagami turned to look at him and was nearly scalded by the blistering, demanding heat glowing in those midnight eyes.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" he instinctively backed up and hit the counter behind him, a little turned on and a little threatened and whole lot unnerved by that hot, gleaming, lusting look.

Aomine shook his head and smiled, but that smile was dark and dangerous and slightly feral, a baring of teeth to the prey in its sights. Kagami swallowed and gripped the bottle of oil he still held in his hand.

"Yeah, of course you aren't doing it on purpose, you aren't smart enough to think up something like that, _Bakagami_."

He still didn't what the other man was talking about, but he knew enough to understand he had just been insulted in some way.

"Hey, now just a damn min—," Kagami didn't finish the outraged complaint. Aomine pounced on him. Muscles coiling, body tensing, he sprang from the stool in one giant, graceful, athletic leap and suddenly he was pinning Kagami to the counter. Kagami felt the hard swell of Aomine's erection pressing insistently against him and his red eyes narrowed, even as his pulse jackrabbitted.

"You planned this from the beginning." The accusation would have had more  _oomph_  if it didn't come out in an almost breathless, gasping whisper.

Aomine lowered his head, pushing his nose into the tender skin behind Kagami's ear, and inhaled deeply, almost like a beast scenting its mate. He spoke, and his warm breath ghosted over Kagami's flesh, tickled his ear, and flowed straight down to his soul.

"I didn't plan anything. You seduced me. Just like you've been seducing me from the first moment I looked into your wild, crimson eyes and actually loved basketball again."

He didn't have a response to that raw, naked confession, and then he couldn't respond at all because Aomine's mouth was on his, covering his, claiming his in a deep, mind-blowing kiss. Speaking was quite impossible.

Kagami didn't stay passive. Reason was no match for the unbridled, untamed need and desire Aomine's hot, aggressive mouth roused in him. Opening his lips, he joined in, started exploring that strong, talented tongue. Aomine groaned deeply, and abruptly lean, nimble fingers were tearing at the ties around his neck. The apron flopped down, but didn't fall, the bow tied around his waist holding it in place.

Aomine leaned back, nibbling on Kagami's lips, and his hands wandered down the hard planes of the ripped, toned chest in front of him, found the small, tight nipples there and palmed them. Kagami exhaled, arching a little into the caress. He'd been ashamed and unsure the first time Aomine had played with his nipples and he'd felt pleasure, but Aomine had slowly taught him to appreciate, relish,  _love_  everything that they did together, no matter how embarrassing.

Making a sound sort of like a humming purr, Aomine licked his chin in approval and began kneading his chest in earnest, massaging and tweaking his nipples until Kagami was bucking against him, shards of pleasure spearing from his chest to his dick.

Rolling the tiny peaks between his thumb and forefinger, Aomine pinched lightly and stared down with hooded eyes.

"No matter how much I play with them, plump them up, rub and work them, they never get any bigger," he murmured, a touch of disappointment in his words.

The words penetrated the sensual spell he'd woven around Kagami, and the red-head roused himself enough to question them. "Wh-what?"

"You're breasts," Aomine answered, and now he sounded a bit sad, "they haven't gotten any bigger, even though I've tried my best." He lifted his arms, wriggling his fingers and opening and closing his hands in a rapid, perverted, grabby-grabby motion.

That woke Kagami right up. "I don't have breasts, dumbass!  _And, wait, you've actually been trying to make them bigger! Are you a freaking retard?!_ " His voice was a squawking, incredulous wail.

Aomine stopped the gross hand motions and dug a pinkie into his ear, shrugging.

Gnashing his teeth, Kagami growled, "You can't make a guy's chest bigger just by massaging it, and  _I wouldn’t want that even if it was possible, you big stupid idiot!_ "

"Tch," Aomine tsked, looking for all the world like a little kid that some heartless soul had just told there was no Santa Claus.

Feeling the overwhelming urge to smash his face in, Kagami raised his arm threateningly, abruptly noticing the bottle of oil still clenched in his fist. Aomine saw it, too and, his wicked smile came back.

"I didn't realize you were so impatient, Kagami. I'm sorry. I'll get back down to business."

"Huh?" he asked stupidly, not getting the abrupt change in the conversation, until Aomine was prying the bottle out of his hand, and then he was being kissed again, and those clever, knowing fingers were roving all over his body, touching, probing, caressing.

He put his hands between their bodies to push Aomine away, still mad at the dumb jerk for thinking he could give him breasts (because even if the asshole was a boob maniac it didn't mean he had try to get his  _male_ lover to grow a pair) and the next moment the hands that were pushing Aomine away were pulling him close, Kagami completely overcome by the sensations washing over his body.

Threading his fingers in that silky, dark hair, he pulled Aomine tighter against his mouth. He sucked on the tongue lashing against his, bit down on the lip rubbing over his, swallowed the breath panting harshly against him and gave Aomine back his own. Aomine's hands tightened almost to the point of pain where they were now resting on Kagami's hips, but Kagami didn't protest, even welcomed that small sting. And then Aomine was dropping to his knees, shoving his head under the pink ruffles of Kagami's apron and it was ridiculous, that dark head peeking out under all that pink, _should_ look ridiculous, but with the first warm, damp lick across the tip of his aching, needy cock, Kagami didn't care how anything looked anymore.

Dropping his hands to Aomine’s shoulders, he could feel the muscles clench and flex under the shirt Aomine wore as the other man bobbed and sucked and twisted his head. _God_ , his mouth was so hot, so silky, so amazing, it was like being surrounded by wet satin. First he played along the head, tracing the flared edge, probing the small opening that was already dripping and sticky. Then he drew a long, moist line down the veined column, descending lower to roll Kagami’s hard, tight balls in his mouth, coming back up to suck the shaft in earnest. Obscene, slurping sounds filled the kitchen. With his tongue flicking, and swirling, and lapping, his mouth tugging and drinking, Aomine teased and tormented Kagami's cock until he felt like he would burst, shoot straight down that long, lean throat in an explosion of lust and love and _cum_.

Digging blunt nails into Aomine's back, he said in a harsh, panting whisper, "Stop, Aomine. _Stop_ or I'll cum in your mouth right now."

Aomine gave his shaft one last, leisurely lick, and then he stood up. He took one look at Kagami's passion-flushed face, his bright, crimson eyes, the evidence of his arousal jutting out from beneath the pink frilly apron, and he cursed, low and vicious. Slamming his body into Kagami's, he sealed their mouths together, grinding his hips deep in the hollow of his lover's open and waiting thighs. Kagami thrust back, rubbing his painfully aroused cock hard and fast against Aomine's, not surrendering to the violent and controlling kiss, but returning it with a deep groan. He tasted himself on those wet, sticky lips and shuddered.

His hands slid up, under Aomine's shirt, and immediately he wanted all that dark, dusky skin bare and touching him, gliding over him,  _covering_  him.

Tearing his lips away, he gripped the hem and yanked furiously. "Off, off, off."  He chanted, almost mindlessly.

Aomine understood and lifted his arms, letting Kagami pull his shirt off, unbutton his pants and push them down, underwear too, and then he was back, his naked chest brushing along Kagami's and  _ohgod yes! thank you!_ it felt so good, so hot, so amazing, that smooth, warm flesh. Kagami touched him everywhere, feeling his muscles jump and tense under the exploring strokes. He went lower, cupped the long, thick shaft curving up below Aomine's waist, and a large hand grabbed his, circled his wrist in a painful grip.

"You're playing with fire, Taiga." The warning was uttered in dark, dangerous, daring tones. Kagami quaked at the sound of his name, at the erotic threat, at the knowledge of what was about to happen.

Staring into eyes gone black with desire, black with the need to rut like a wild beast, black with longing and love for _him_ , Kagami lifted his chin and smiled. A cocky, arrogant smile reminiscent of the ones Aomine had perfected.

"Then burn me, if you can," he taunted lightly, though inside he was shivering with anticipation, "burn me and melt me and  _fuck_  me until I don't even have the strength to stand anymore."

Six months ago, he would have never dreamed that he could say such sexual, visceral things, but that was before Aomine, before Kagami knew just how good it felt to join his body with his dark, arrogant lover’s.

Aomine's eyes flared, his nose flared, and then he was on Kagami like a starving beast. In the space of seconds or minutes or hours, he was plunging fingers he'd somehow coated with the oil deep into Kagami's ass. It tingled, it burned, it thrilled, and he couldn't stop the surprised cry that was torn from his throat.

The fingers pushed and curled, sliding in, slipping out, over and over, rotating until they found the bundle of nerves deep inside that had him quaking, seeing blinding spots of light, and gasping for breath. He wanted to cum, felt like he could cum, but like always the pressure just _wasn't_ enough. Aomine knew. He chuckled darkly and withdrew his fingers with a wet, slippery pop.

"Bastard," Kagami grunted without real ire.

"Maybe, but you love this bastard," Aomine smiled, only the tension humming through his voice proof of how much it was costing him to hold back.

"Yeah, well, I obviously need my head examined," he murmured back, then steadied himself as Aomine lifted his right leg, then his left, and placed the broad head of a massive cock against his ass. They didn't have sex like this often. Kagami found this position even more embarrassing than riding him cowboy style. Still, with his back braced against the counter, all he could do was clench his hands around Aomine's muscled arms and hold on as his body was invaded.

"That's not a nice thing to say to your love-- _ahhh_ ," the laughing protest ended on a deep, moaning sigh. That sound, that low, sultry " _ahhh_ " Aomine made every time he slid into Kagami, a possessive sound that seemed to say  _yes! this is heaven, this is home, there's no place in the world I'd rather be_ , that sound always sent a sliver of delight shooting his body, his heart, his very soul. He unconsciously tightened around Aomine's dick, causing the other man to groan again.

"Fuck, don't do  _that_ , or I'll cum right away," he complained in a husky growl.

Speech was once again outside of Kagami's capabilities. His ass was full, so incredibly full, and there was a wonderful pressure on that glorious, secret spot, and Aomine's dark, delicious skin was heating his, rubbing it, and all he wanted was for Aomine to  _move_ , to thrust and plunge and drive and just  _fuck_  him. 

So he told him, not with words, but with his body. He took Aomine's mouth in a melting, searing kiss and rocked his hips. They both gasped as the movement caused Aomine's dick to push even deeper, and suddenly the man who knew everything about basketball, and was slowly starting to learn about love, got the hint.

Placing his hands under Kagami's ass, he pulled back his hips and thrust, shoving forward, upward, ramming home with hard, fast strokes. It stung and yet it felt so amazingly good and tight and so very wicked. Kagami threw back his head and howled, something that would mortify him later. Aomine gave him a tight, sultry grin, sweat dampening his face from his exertions, and withdrew, surging back to scrape over and over that wicked, luscious, sizzling place of guilty pleasure that he had never known existed until he had met the man holding him, riding him, reaming him,  _fucking_  him.

The cock in his ass was big, bigger than his, and under other circumstances Kagami would feel a little disgruntled about it. But not here, not now, not when that large, long, solid dick was the source of immeasurable pleasure. He thrashed and moaned, undulating feverishly against Aomine, the counter scratching his back because of his violent movements. He didn’t care, just threw his arms over Aomine’s shoulders, raking his nails down that wide, arching back.

Eyes narrowing to mere slits, Aomine grunted at the feel of Kagami’s nails, punished him by changing the angle of his thrusts, teasing Kagami’s prostate but not giving it the vigorous hammering the red-head so desperately desired. Not until Kagami was shivering and crying and pleading for Aomine to stop tormenting him.

Satisfaction rolling off him in waves, Aomine obliged, shifting again so he could hit the spot Kagami wanted. Repeatedly, he rammed and pistoned, causing  their bodies to crach together, their hard, muscled stomachs slapping and smacking with every jolting lunge. Kagami pushed back, meeting those upward thrusts, the exquisite, primal pleasure building and building until his whole body vibrated with the need to release it, let it go, pour it out, cum in a blinding, furious rush.

“ _Aomine_ ,” he hissed, eyes a little crazed, mouth open and panting.

Aomine sensed his need. His hand slipped between them, under the apron that was now drenched with their sweat, drenched with their pre-cum, and closed his fingers around Kagami's weeping, throbbing erection. He pumped and tugged, twisting his hand, stroking the hard shaft in time with his fierce thrusts.

"Cum for me, my cute, adorable, sweet, little  _Taiga_ ," he whispered against Kagami's mouth, biting down on his bottom lip and then lapping gently to soothe the pain.

Kagami looked into Aomine’s burning, blazing, branding blue gaze, and he did just that. Release exploded behind his eyes, in his balls, out his cock, and flooded through his body completely. His spine arched away from the counter, and he raked his nails down that dusky, broad back again as he cried out, staining and soaking the apron with his cum. Aomine lost his rhythm, his control, and his mind at Kagami's intense orgasm. He shoved, plunged, hammered a few more times and then he was groaning out his climax into Kagami's mouth as he pulsed out his essence into the hot, tight body still joined to his.

When Kagami could think, breathe, speak again, he realized what the jerk had done. Wadding his hand into a fist, he punched Aomine hard and fast in the shoulder.

Still basking in post-coital bliss, Aomine was so shocked by the abrupt and rather painful attack, that he slipped out of Kagami and took a faltering step back.

" _Bakagami_ , bastard, what was that for?! Is that anyway to treat the man who just rocked your world?" he half whined, half snarled.

Kagami looked at Aomine - bare, muscular chest with that delectable dark skin, pants around his ankles, penis still semi-hard and glistening with himself and Kagami and the oil - and the cherry tomatoes in his fridge couldn't have been a brighter red than his face at the moment.

"I can't talk to you when you look like that," he said stiffly, waving a hand vaguely at Aomine's pelvis. "Put your dick away. And I hit you because you _came_ in me again, you asshole! I told you about that last time, didn't I?!"   
  
Even now he could feel the warm, sticky wetness oozing down his leg. It was uncomfortable and kind of gross and so embarrassing he wanted to crawl under a rock and hide forever.

At least Aomine had the grace to look a little sheepish. He scratched his face and smiled like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he pulled up his pants. "Ah, sorry about that. It's just, you know, you felt so good and looked so good, and then you were cumming and screaming and I just kind of lost it."

"I didn't scream," Kagami denied hotly, knowing his blush was probably a permanent fixture of his body now.

Aomine smirked, that cocky, confident smirk that drove him crazy. "Yes, you did. In fact, you screamed so loud, I can still hear the sound ringing in my ears."

“Now you’re just exagger—," he was about to lay into him, but tilted his head to the side as he heard the ringing, too. "Oh, shit! That's not screaming, dumbass! That's the smoke alarm! The food!  _Fuck_."

He could smell it now that he recognized the sound. Glancing over at the stove, he saw plumes of black smoke billowing from the pot. Rushing over, he turned off the fire and looked inside. It was a disgusting, blackened, horrible mess. Grabbing the pot holders, he took the smoking pot to the sink and dropped it in with loud, metallic clang. A flick of his wrist had the cold water running into the charred remains, and then he was turning to glare at Aomine.

"That," he pointed at the globby, gooey burnt clump, "is all _your_ fault. And, I'm hungry.  _Starving_. What are you going to do about it?"

Sighing, Aomine walked over Kagami and threw his arm over his shoulder. "Fine, I'll buy you dinner. Anywhere you want. Just don’t break my wallet. I have to eat the rest of the month. But not dessert, okay. I won’t buy you dessert."

Kagami leaned his head on a hard, firm shoulder so he could look into Aomine's eyes. "Why?" he asked, confused by the strange declaration.

Aomine smiled, that sinful, wicked, erotic smile. "Because," he lowered his head the few centimeters to brush his lips against Kagami's, "you're gonna be the dessert, of course."

And. later that night, Kagami really was, but he didn’t mind. Aomine was his sweet treat, too, and they ate each other up until exhaustion lulled them into a warm, contented, happy sleep.

_Fin._


End file.
